him days an' whin I got hold of his wind, an' began to beat his intellectuality to a pulp with his own revolver he weakened. Thin I took him out an' tied him to his hoss, hand an' foot--an' the Lord knows I needed that rope, too.
"'Does yer hoss know where yer live?' says I.
"'Yes,' says he, that weak an' feeble like I was almost sorry for him.
"'That's lucky for yer,' I says, 'because that's where he'll take yer,' says I. 'An' the next time yer go to serve a writ of dejection on anyone,' I says, 'be certain to pick out a man of yer size,' says I, 'an' take him when he's sick,' I says.
"Then I took a bull whip an' hitt that hoss of his across the place where it would do the most good, an' he an' the land shark cut a scared stripe through the adjacency of Kansas into Oakley. I heard later that he reached there all right, but he never worried me any more. Anyhow I taught him a lesson.
* * *
"By the way, I have a little very fine old Irish whuskey--if yer will? Yes? This